The Pessimists
by sk280
Summary: I'm not happy. I don't think I ever have been. Ever since I can remember there's always been that bittersweet feeling deep down inside of me, a little voice whispering "Happiness was not made for you..." / Blair Waldorf, a little out of character...


**- The Pessimists -**

**.**

I'm not happy. I don't think I ever have been. Ever since I can remember there's always been that bittersweet feeling deep down inside of me, a little voice whispering "Happiness was not made for you..."

I wonder if there's such a thing as a happy gene, because if there is, I was born without one. I swear it's like I am able to find imperfections in everything.

Ever since I was a little girl, I would spend hours just criticising everything surrounding me. Thank god I am a good enough actress because if people knew how screwed up I was deep inside I would probably end up even more alone than I am right now. I just don't seem to see the world the same way everybody else does.

Take Serena for example, sure most people would say she was the human incarnation of perfection, but seriously, how dense can that girl be? Don't get me wrong, she's my best friend and I love her, but perfect she is not.

Nothing is... or at least nothing I know of. See, I told you I was screwed up.

But just because I am able to find flaws for everything that surrounds me, that doesn't mean I don't take the time to criticize myself. And what's even worse is that, while I don't have the power to change the world for it to live up to my standards, I sure as hell can control my body to do so. Or at least, you know, die trying.

All I can see is deformity, chaos and ugliness. But that doesn't mean I want to. Nobody wants to be different, I even less.

I grew tired with every passing day. My body weak from purging, my head numb from analysing. I decided I had to do something to put an end to this nightmare. For once, I wanted, I needed, to see the world thought someone else's eyes, or else I would self-destruct. I needed some light to come through that daily darkness that clouded my life.

On the Upper East Side, light came in the forms of Serena Van der Woodsen and Nathanial Archibald. At the age of 11, I started dating Nate because he could see beauty in everything and I became best friends with Serena because she could see beauty in everyone. I was desperate. For days, I would go on dates with Nate, take strolls in Central Park with Serena and try to feed off of their optimism. I needed them. They kept me sane.

Then I met Chuck Bass.

* * *

I didn't really pay attention to him at first. For me, he was just Nate's friend, new money and bad reputation, nothing I haven't heard of before.

We were all at Penelope's birthday party and she was opening her presents. She had just opened a package containing this atrocious pink gown and while everybody was complimenting it and saying how god it would look on her, his voice rose above the others.

"That's the ugliest thing I have ever seen."

Everyone froze and turned to look at him.

"What, it's true. Honestly, you're not really planning on wearing that_ thing_ are you?"

Penelope burst out crying and fled the room, a bunch of girls flying after her, some to comfort her, most just to be part of the drama.

Nate turned to Chuck.

"Seriously man, was that really necessary?"

"I'm sorry for being honest."

Nate left the room after this, Serena right behind him, to go apologise to the birthday girl on behalf of his best friend because the latter clearly wasn't going to.

There was only Chuck, me and a couple of kids we didn't know left in the room. Our eyes met.

"You enjoyed that didn't you?"

"What are you talking about?"

"This little public humiliation that tasteless girl had to go thought because of me."

"What makes you think that?"

"You're smiling."

I was.

* * *

Chuck Bass was darkness, he was tainted.

He was just like me.

No, that's not true, he was even worse than me. He had so much darkness in him that he couldn't even hide it anymore.

It was seeking out of him, like a hallo of danger and black poison, surrounding him at all time.

I had founded someone even more screwed up than I was, and this scarred the crap out of me.

He terrified me, because he could see right through me.

The worst part is that, even though he scared me to death, there was something deep inside of me, some kind of invisible string, pulling me to him. It's like I didn't want to be anywhere near him but at the same time, I couldn't bear to stay away, so I didn't.

With him, I discovered that even though everything in it was flawed, you could find a certain pleasure in this world. He showed me how to destroy people in order to rebuild them and get them to be how you want them to be. He showed me the fine arts of manipulation and destruction.

For the first time, I felt something akin to happiness inside of me. Finally, I could build a world to my image and to my expectations, little by little.

I was thankful to him for that. I started appreciating him a little more, and with appreciation came attachment. Suddenly, Chuck Bass held an important role in my life. I needed him just as much as I needed Serena or Nate. Even more actually, because I knew that even though I would never be like Serena and Nate, Chuck Bass didn't mind. He liked me just the way I was: screwed up, just like him.

That's why **he was it **for me.


End file.
